


Lucky

by artikgato



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Canon Compliant, M/M, in which i assume victor can't cook, post episode 12, teeth rotting fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-23
Updated: 2016-12-23
Packaged: 2018-09-11 11:26:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8977789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artikgato/pseuds/artikgato
Summary: He was sitting on Victor Nikiforov's couch - /Victor Nikiforov's/ - in his apartment, talking about cooking for him. Not for the first time and certainly not the last, Yuri became acutely aware of the slim golden band on his hand, and how it matched the one on Victor's. This all felt like a dream, a wonderful dream.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I never even expected to like this show, and here I am, crying about how good the ending was and how this show was a blessing and the only bright spot in an otherwise awful year. I don't think I can do this pairing and these wonderful characters nearly as much justice as the actual writers and director of the show did, which is such a rarity in anime that I don't even know how to handle it. But here you go, my small contribution to the fandom in the form of a teeth-rottingly sweet fluff piece about how Victor needs to buy a rice cooker.

"Hey, Victor?" Yuri called. He opened a cabinet and peered inside, but just as he thought, it was empty. Just like the four other cabinets that stood open beside this one.

"Hmm?" he got in response, so faint he almost didn't hear it as it drifted to him from where Victor was sitting on the couch.

"Do you have... _any_ pots or pans?" Yuri called over his shoulder, closing the cabinet, and then all of the others in sequence. Victor just laughed.

"I never needed them," Victor replied. Yuri frowned a little, but then just gave a sigh and smiled fondly.

"What did you eat?" he asked as he made his way out of the kitchen. Victor waited until Yuri joined him on the couch, Makkachin giving up his spot beside Victor with a suspicious amount of ease. The dog had settled into his and Victor's relationship faster than Yuri himself had, or it seemed that way to Yuri at least. He patted the poodle on the head with a fond smile.

"We've been so busy, you probably didn't notice all the restaurants across the street," Victor pointed out with an easy smile. "I usually ate there. I got takeout sometimes when I didn't feel like going outside."

"So you never cooked?" Yuri asked.

"Like I said," Victor explained, "I never needed to. It was only me, so I never had anyone to cook for in the first place."

"Oh," Yuri replied, cheeks turning faintly pink. He started to say something else, but thought the better of it, biting his lips to stop himself. Victor raised an eyebrow, before he gave Yuri a grin.

"Go on, Yuri. What were you about to say?" he prompted, and Yuri blushed a little harder.

"I was just...I mean, if you want to just keep eating at the restaurants, it's fine, but I was thinking that...maybe...I could cook for you?" he asked, voice meek, and even though Victor had told him already that he could be more up-front with what he wanted, it was so hard to kick his bad habits.

"Would you really?" Victor asked, and his excitement was palpable, eyes bright and smile so natural that now Yuri was blushing for entirely different reasons.

"Sure!" Yuri replied, with a matching grin. "I'll go buy a rice cooker, and some pots and pans, and-"

" _We'll_ go buy a rice cooker," Victor corrected him, and Yuri couldn't help ducking his head and laughing, giddy. "Honestly, your parents were spoiling me with their cooking. I don't think the restaurants here would be able to compare," Victor said. "If you have even half of their cooking talent, I'll gladly eat your food any night of the week."

"Sure," Yuri repeated.

"And while we're out, we should get some new decorations. This is _our_ apartment now, so it should look like it," Victor continued.

"Oh, no! You don't have to!" Yuri sputtered in protest. Victor sighed at him.

"But I want to. This place belongs to me, sure, and I lived here before but it was never _h_ _ome_ to me until now," he explained, and Yuri gulped.

"O-oh," he replied. Yuri always traveled light. He hadn't brought a lot with him when he came here, just the essentials, really. Not much more than what he'd taken with him to Detroit to train. It wasn't necessarily that he didn't want to impose on Victor - though the thought had certainly crossed his mind - it was just simply that he didn't really own a lot. Even at Hasetsu he hadn't really owned a lot.

"Um, should I have...brought more with me from Japan?" Yuri asked, and Victor laughed.

"What, like those posters of me you had in your room?" he teased with a wink, and Yuri died, right then and there, of sheer mortification. RIP Yuri Katsuki, he had a good life, and now we lay him to rest.

"I-I thought I hid those!" Yuri groaned, his protest muffled from how he was having to hide his face in Victor's chest out of utter embarrassment.

"Your sister showed me," he explained. Yuri groaned again. What betrayal! Victor pushed Yuri off of his chest, gently, with a hand on each shoulder. He knew Victor wanted him to look at him, but he was still too embarrassed. It took Victor putting a hand on his face and gently coaxing him to turn his head before he could bring himself to meet Victor's eyes and - oh. It wasn't like he could ever forget how striking and beautiful Victor's eyes were, but he still got a little breathless every time he looked into them. This time, they were practically sparkling with mirth and affection.

"You know I think it's cute that you were my fan, right?" he asked, and Yuri nodded. It wasn't like Victor hadn't known Yuri was his fan, or that Yuri hadn't told him about how he'd been inspired by him. Yuri wasn't embarrassed about that, it was just...the posters were a bit much, right?

"You inspired me to start skating competitively," Yuri admitted, with a smile. "I've told you that, right?"

"I know, but I never get tired of hearing it," Victor replied, returning the smile.

He was sitting on Victor Nikiforov's couch - _Victor Nikiforov's_ \- in his apartment, talking about cooking for him. Not for the first time and certainly not the last, Yuri became acutely aware of the slim golden band on his hand, and how it matched the one on Victor's. This all felt like a dream, a wonderful dream.

"Thank you," Yuri said, and he couldn't quite hold the eye contact now, having to look down at Victor's chest. "Thank you for...for everything, Victor."

"Hey, hey, quit acting like you're the only lucky one in this relationship, Yuri," Victor replied, poking him in the cheek. When he finally looked up to meet his eyes again, Victor reached up and grabbed him by the shoulder, tugging him forward until they were laying across the couch, Yuri on Victor's chest and Victor propped up on the arm of the couch. Makkachin settled over their feet without so much as a huff at them.

"V-victor?" Yuri asked.

"I was laying on this couch just like this when I watched you skating to my program, Yuri," Victor explained. He held up a hand to mimic having a phone in front of him. "Right here, watching the cute Japanese boy that had challenged me to a dance-off at the Grand Prix Final banquet, watching him skate my program flawlessly. Out of shape, with no music."

"O-oh," Yuri replied, dumbly. Victor smirked.

"I called up Yakov right away and told him I was taking a year off from skating. I checked around on social media and found where you lived, and then I packed my bags and got on a plane to Japan."

"Just like that?" Yuri asked, curious.

"Just like that," Victor confirmed.

"Why?" Yuri asked, and Victor sighed, with a patient smile on his lips.

"You stole my heart at the banquet, Yuri," Victor said. "And then you showed me just how much potential you really had in that video."

"But...I mean," Yuri protested. "I was so...bad at that Grand Prix Final. A-and...even with you coaching me this time, I still only got silver-"

"Yuri," Victor cut him off, voice hard. He blinked, a little panicked, but Victor was still smiling at him. He turned and gestured to the opposite wall of the couch. There was a shelf there, with all of Victor's many (many, many) medals and trophies on it, littered with pictures from the various events Victor had won. There were five gold medals lined up in a row and...Yuri's silver medal, a stark contrast, right next to them. "I am proud to display your silver medal next to my gold ones, Yuri. I could have stayed here in this empty apartment, and returned to the ice and won another gold medal to hang there instead...but it would have felt empty to me. Do you know why?" When Yuri just shook his head, Victor put his hand on his cheek, gently turning his head back to look at him again. "This apartment never felt empty to me before then, but after I danced with you at the banquet...it started to. Another year of this empty apartment, another gold medal on my shelf...it's too lonely for me to even think about now. Truthfully, I wanted to find you even before I saw that video, but I didn't really have a reason to. "

"...oh," Yuri sighed out.

"So, you see? I'm the lucky one here. You made me fall for you at the banquet and then you ran away. I didn't know if I'd ever even see you again on the ice. And now you're here with me, talking about buying a rice cooker. I couldn't be luckier," Victor explained. Yuri laughed, ducking his head a little to try to hide his blush.

"I grew up idolizing you," Yuri started. "I never thought I'd be able to skate on the same ice as you and...when I did, I messed up so badly, I didn't think you'd even want to look at me. And then you just showed up out of nowhere, saying you were going to be my coach. And if that wasn't enough, you were...were... _interested_ in me, romantically, when no-one else ever had been. _I'm_ the lucky one." He finally managed to look up, meeting Victor's smile. Victor chuckled.

"We're both lucky, then," Victor replied, reaching up to slide a hand into the hair on the back of Yuri's head. Yuri nodded, and when Victor pulled him down into a kiss, he went willingly. Just like Victor's eyes always managing to catch him off guard, Yuri didn't think he'd ever get used to kissing Victor. Not that he ever wanted to, if every kiss with him left him breathless and lightheaded like they did now. He hoped, sincerely, that he never came to take Victor for granted, as long as Victor let him stay by his side.

"Now then," Victor said, when they finally separated for air. He slid his hand around until he was cupping Yuri's cheek, sliding a thumb affectionately across Yuri's cheekbone. "Let's go buy that rice cooker."

**Author's Note:**

> I'm artikgato on Tumblr in case you want to scream/cry/flail with me about these two dorks. I promise I don't bite.


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